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When John decided they would leave the church for later, Florence couldn't help but let out a sigh of disappointment, but her tune soon changed when he said they could hit up the bookstore. Though before the outbreak the book store was the least visited place in Florence's life- in today's world the bookstore was a vacation. Often days where there was nothing to do, she would curl up with a book and get lost for a few hours, sometimes even using the light from the campfire to keep the pages alive and keep the story going for just one more chapter.

Following behind her companion, kicking a rock now and again when felt the need she looked towards the truck John had been referring to. [b]"My dad had a truck too."[/b] she commented, with a bit of sullen sound. She had spent many of summer nights with mountains of blankets and pillows in the bed of the truck during a drive-in movie theater night, something their family had done now and again before everything.  [b]"I don't mind walking."[/b] she said a little cheer in her voice as she looked into John's eyes for a moment. It was true that transportation would improve their lives so much for the better, but there was something about using your feet to get you to your destination that made the reward that much more better.

Skipping up the front steps of the mini-mart, Florence pushed open the front door that rang with a dull twang of a bell that at one point had a lot of use. Her eyes gazed up to the system as she looked back to John with raised eyebrows, [b]"I miss music."[/b] she admitted as she turned back and walked into the store, showing a distressed mess. The shelves toppled over as things had been picked over, twice in the initial rush of survival. Picking through a few boxes, Flo looked for anything they could salvage.